(Don't) Need to Breathe
by Chrisii
Summary: 6X02 Episode Tag: In which Jay's bullet wound turns out to warrant a trip to the hospital and an overnight stay, some frustration and yelling from Will, and a realisation that his actions were a highly audible, silent scream for help. Ft. Doctor Will Halstead and Dr. Connor Rhodes.


**(Don't) Need to Breathe**

This was his father's murderer.  
The person running ahead of him is why his father is dead.  
He is the reason that the last conversation that Jay will ever have with his father is an argument.

But was it really his fault? Arguments arose every time that Jay and Pat talked.

They certainly wouldn't anymore.

His steps faltered and Jay pushed the thoughts out of his mind; he needed to concentrate. He focused on the concrete beneath his pounding feet, each step taking him closer to his target. He focused on the air that burned in his lungs as he pushed himself to keep running.

He focused on staying in line with the shooter when the van forced him to lose sight of his target.

He focused on drawing his own gun from his waistband when his gut warned him that the culprit was surely planning something.

Daniel rounded a corner and Jay took a few larger strides, trying to close the distance between them. He wasn't surprised when he saw the flashing nozzle just before the bullets embedded themselves in his vest, but their force was still enough to push all the air out of his lungs and weaken his knees.

One of the bullets didn't hit the vest.

Jay felt it rip through his side, white-hot agony there and not, numbing the whole area and igniting all his nerves.

He could feel himself going down and raised his gun, forcing himself to take a shot before collapsing on his side, unable to keep on running. His arm ached from where he landed on it and he turned on his back, chest heaving as he attempted to breathe through the pain that was ripping through his chest and torso and shoulders and just about everywhere.

The adrenaline started to ooze out of his system the mere moment he was off his feet. He awkwardly patted his side, grimacing as he hit a wet patch.

The blood dribbled off his fingers like thick water.

He could feel it soak his shirt.

Daniel's voice broke his trance and he turned on his side, biting back a groan when the motion sparked the pain in his chest. He fingered the buttons near his heart, feeling for the blood that would have been there had the bullet pierced his vest. Despite his shaking hand, he kept the gun pointed at Daniel's vicinity.

"Help me, I wanna see my father."

Daniel's words pierced Jay's cloud of pain like a red-hot poker would have melted a block of ice. This man had just made Jay an orphan and he had the audacity to ask him to see his father.

Jay wanted to see his father too.  
He wanted to speak with him again too.  
He wanted to remember something other than the hurtful words that they had flung at each other before everything took a twist into hell.  
But he couldn't make another person go through that out of spite.  
He wouldn't live with himself.

He grabbed the radio and turned on his back again, forcing himself to drag in a couple of breaths before attempting to speak.

"This is an emergency. Shots fired." He breathed in a couple more breaths. "Offender down. Need an ambo. Lower Wacker and Columbus." The pain was increasing and Jay forced himself to breathe through it, to shove it down until he could finish what he had started. "Just get him help." They didn't know that there was an officer down as well. He would live; his wound was superficial at best. Daniel needed more help than him.

Jay turned on his front and propped himself on his elbows before trying to push himself to his feet. He never straightened, but he managed about a step before he fell forward again, falling on the material that had been discarded on the floor. It was a welcome reprieve from the concrete, but his wound still flared, protesting the additional movement.

He blinked, attempting to remove the black blotches that were concealing his vision, and used one hand to feel for Daniel's pulse and the other to throw away the gun from their vicinity. He knew Daniel wasn't in a position to fire off shots at anyone, but it was procedure and he wanted to follow some semblance of a rule after breaking a direct order and getting shot in the process.

The pain was growing by the minute second and Jay could barely feel Daniel's pulse. He could hear the blood pumping in his head, pushing against his skull and trying to ooze out of his ears, numbing his arms and legs but leaving so much pain behind that he couldn't help but turn on his back again.

Anything to remove the pressure.

He felt himself slide off the pavement and fall into the street, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't care if a car took the turn a bit too close and wiped him out of existence. He was probably fired anyway. Death would be a relief at the moment.

The black blotches were getting larger and Jay tried to lower his arm on top of his eyes to rub them but he couldn't quite get the movement right. He couldn't really move his arm; was it stuck between him and the pavement?

There were panicked voices all around him now and he could feel people running on the concrete, the sound of their steps echoing in his ears. His lungs craved more air and Jay coughed against his will, feeling the pain that had receded come back with vengeance.

He blinked and suddenly there was a woman on top of him, ripping his shirt open with frantic movements. Jay wished that he had enough energy to try and calm her down; there was no use of worrying over him so much. He tried to raise his head, watching curiously as she felt beneath the vest, but soon gave up and let his head fall back against the pavement.

Ouch. He hit his head a bit too strongly there.

Why was she telling him to breathe? She was the one who needed to take a breather. He was breathing. Right?

His breath was ripped out of his lungs when she applied pressure to his side and his whole body seized, fighting against the pain and her hands and the discomfort of having too much attention on him.

* * *

Hailey watched as panic and pain started to get to her partner. He gazed at her blankly, trying to shimmy away from her hands and batting at them weakly. Was he even recognising her? There was nothing but anxiety in his eyes.

She gently pushed his hand away before bunching up a piece of his own shirt and pressing it into his wound.

She would never forget the guttural shout that faded away into a groan as he struggled to stay conscious. He was looking around aimlessly and nothing Hailey could do was stopping the blood or the rapid rate at which Jay was paling.

She cupped the side of his head and tried to make him focus on her but he just frowned, his arm falling against his forehead with a dull thump. Cold sweat dampened his skin and highlighted his haggard state; Hailey couldn't help but wonder when Jay had last rested. Truly rested.

Her thought was barely over before she heard the sirens and felt Jay completely pass out beneath her hands, his head lolling lifelessly against the concrete.

His ragged breathing was too loud, but at least it was there.

Hailey hoped it would remain there until the ambulance arrived.

* * *

"Jay?" Sylvie was suddenly there, placing pieces of gauze over Jay's stomach and pushing Hailey's soaked hands out of the way.

Another ambulance had already taken Daniel, and Adam and Hailey were kneeling on either side of Jay; one holding the gauze in place and the other making sure that Jay's heart remained beating.

"He got shot. There's an exit wound. He started wheezing a few minutes ago but has been passed out since we radioed in." Hailey rambled, taking one of Jay's hands and squeezing it before the dark-skinned paramedic pushed her out of the way gently. Her name eluded Hailey, who was too focused on how cold Jay's hands felt. "He's cold."

"He's in shock. Hook him up and get a litre of saline going. I'll give him something to dull the pain." The painkiller eased Jay's tension and Hailey watched as his frown melted away before half of his face was hidden behind the oxygen mask.

"I don't feel any broken bones, he's lucky," Foster said as she ripped the vest away from his chest and threw it out of the way, exposing an ugly, blossoming bruise directly above his heart. The air around them seemed to thin out as the realisation dawned on everyone.

The vest had quite literally saved Jay's life.

Had he not been wearing it, Hailey would have found Jay's dead body.

The thought was enough to make her expel the contents of her stomach on the other side of the road. Ruzek was there, rubbing her back and pulling her hair away from the vomit. Hailey was disgusted with herself; she was reacting like a first-year beat cop.

"He's your partner, Hailey. It's okay to have such a reaction." Ruzek pulled her away from the smelly puddle once she was done and shoved a bottle of water in her hands. She didn't question where it came from as she rinsed out her mouth and shakily pushed herself to her feet.

"We're taking him to Med. He still needs to take some x-rays and get the GSW stitched. Any of you coming with?" Brett and Emily had already pushed the gurney into the ambulance and Hailey could see one of Jay's arms dangling lifelessly off the stretcher.

This was all his fault.  
He had gotten shot because he was too stubborn to listen to Voight's orders.

Suddenly, Hailey didn't want to see him anymore.  
She didn't want to worry and tear her stomach to pieces.

She needed to be sure he was okay and alive.  
But she didn't trust herself to not scold him the second he opened his eyes.

"We'll go to Med afterwards. We need to wrap things up here first." Hailey said, turning her back on the ambulance and stalking back to where she could see a gun in the middle of the road.

Presumably the same gun that had almost killed her partner.

* * *

Jay didn't know where he was. He definitely wasn't in the tunnel anymore. Usually, straps didn't come out of the ground to hold him down, as far as he knew. His chest was bare and there was something stuck to it – shocking pads? No. He'd be passed out if they were that.

Sound returned with the force of a tank and Jay couldn't help his wince as his ears were assaulted with too many noises; beeping, voices, traffic, the hissing of air. He couldn't put his finger on it all and the light was burning a hole through his eyes, forcing him to keep them closed. He tried to turn away from it but there were hands on him, keeping him on his back and putting pressure on his side.

It hurt and he wanted them to stop, but he couldn't say the words no matter how much he tried.

He was having too much trouble taking a full breath as it was, speaking was out of the question.

* * *

"He's at Med and none of you went with him?!" Antonio growled at the two detectives upon hearing that Jay had been shot by their culprit. "You know that he hates hospitals, and you sent him alone despite having just lost his father there?" He expected it from Adam; sometimes the young man could be rash and unthinking, but the fact that even his partner had abandoned him astounded the older detective.

"It's his fault he's in this mess in the first place, Antonio, and he won't be alone. Doesn't his brother work there?" Hailey said, raising her chin in a show of defiance. Despite the gesture, Antonio could see how shaken she was and immediately backed off, heading for his car.

The others could wrap up the scene, he had a friend to accompany.

He ignored the voice telling him that Ruzek had not been tactless at all: Hailey needed someone to ground her more than Jay needed someone to accompany him to Med.

Besides, he'd probably be too deeply unconscious to notice he was alone.

Hopefully.

* * *

The light was directly in his eyes now and there were hands everywhere, cutting off his shirt and inserting needles and doing multiple other things that Jay couldn't keep up with. The smell of blood and antiseptic and plastic and gauze was everywhere. He never thought that gauze had any smell, but he could smell it as clear as day as someone wiped the blood off his face.

Had he knocked his head against the pavement? His head didn't hurt.

There was a hand going through his hair. Rough. Thorough. Not comforting.

"...No head trauma." Doctor talk.

Hospital.  
Presumably Med.  
Where his father had just died.

Actually, where he and his brother had pulled the plug.

There was something heavy on his face, but he couldn't really summon enough energy to remove it. Besides, it wasn't that annoying. By contrast, the ache in his chest was horrendous, making him regret every inhale and exhale.

Had the bullet gone through? He didn't remember bleeding from his chest. But then again, he barely remembered anything.

"Jay, can you hear me?" Someone was tapping his cheek. "Come on Jay, you can sleep later. I know you're mostly conscious." Wasn't that Connor? His tone was urgent despite the apparent teasing.

But Jay was sleepy. He didn't want to wake up and feel even more pain. The tapping on his cheek got even more insistent and he dragged his eyes open, trying to absorb the hustle and bustle around him before a clear voice echoed from somewhere near the door.

"LET ME IN THERE! You know what he did last time, right? You want a repeat of that? I don't think so. Let me in, I can calm him." Antonio. That was Antonio's voice. What had happened last time? Oh yeah. That time when he had almost blinded a doctor with a scalpel after they tried to do something without telling him first as they hadn't realised he was conscious.

No wonder Connor was trying to wake him fully.

"Let him in. We'll need the manpower." Connor turned towards the door but his hand remained on Jay's shoulder, anchoring the detective and not letting him slip away again. God, as if he could fall asleep with that annoying beeping on the side. And the hands on him. The gloves rubbing against his skin was a disgusting feeling.

"Jay, I need you to listen to me, all right? We need to clean your GSW and it's going to hurt. We'll give you some painkillers but we can't wait for them to take effect." Connor's words seemed to jumble in his head, but Jay understood the gist of it.

And why they were letting Antonio in.

And why one of the nurses was placing loose restraints around his ankles.

He nodded shakily and saw more than felt the nurse inject what was presumably the painkiller in his IV before there was Antonio in front of him, his hands on his shoulders and conveniently blocking his view of the doctors.

"Hey man. Focus on me, okay? You don't need to see that. What you need to do is tell me what the hell you were thinking when you wake up again, all right? So use this time to think of a pretty good reason or I'm going to kick your ass once you're all recovered and not using a mask to breathe…" Antonio's voice droned on but Jay couldn't focus on the words. The timbre of Antonio's voice was comfortable to listen to though. He could almost forget he was lying in a hospital bed.

Until there was a horrendous burning blinding horrible pain in his side and Jay didn't think he had enough air in his lungs to scream but his throat felt raw and were those tears running down the side of his face? Something else was dumped on his side and he tried to twist on his side, to kick the people away, to tumble off the bed, anything to escape the pain.

But his feet wouldn't move much and there were hands all over him and Antonio was holding him down from the shoulders until a pleasant numbness started to take hold and Jay could finally breathe and slump down on the bed, any energy that he had mustered quickly leaving him along with his consciousness.

* * *

Antonio didn't think he'd ever get the sound of Jay's scream out of his ears. He'd never had a GSW cleaned like that and he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, let alone on the young detective. The EKG was still beeping somewhat erratically and Jay's skin was damp with sweat but at least he was unconscious, even if small whimpers escaped from between his lips as the doctors finished.

The nurses were saying something about stats and whatsoever, but Antonio didn't pay much attention. He just held Jay's hand until his breathing evened out completely, the pain slowly diminishing as he sunk further down into unconsciousness.

"He was crawling on the pavement, we had to be safe to avoid an infection." Choi sounded almost apologetic and Antonio nodded distractedly, knowing that the doctors were just doing their job.

"He'll be fine, we just need to stitch him up, take him for an x-ray, and then get him settled in a bed. Give us a little time. Go tell Will that he'll be fine, I'll be with you both shortly." Connor was aiming for a reassuring tone, but it was lost on Antonio.

"X-rays?" Antonio frowned; usually, a through and through didn't warrant the honour of having your x-ray taken.

"Just to make sure that there isn't any internal damage or cracked ribs." Oh yeah, the bullet that had hit his chest (right above his heart) might have done more damage than could be seen. "He'll be fine, Antonio. He's holding up well, given the circumstances."

"I'll go call the team. Hang in there, Jay," Antonio squeezed Jay's shoulder despite knowing that the younger detective was drifting in oblivion. The action was more to reassure himself by feeling the boy's warm skin.

Pleasant warmth, not fever warmth.

* * *

"Yeah, he'll be fine.; the bullet was a through and through. He's unconscious for now, they're getting him settled soon." Voight didn't need to know about Jay's moment of vulnerability. None of them needed to know that.

"We'll come to see him tomorrow, let him rest for tonight," Hank replied, relief evident in his gravelly voice just before he hung up.

"How the hell did this happen? We just lost dad and Voight just let him continue working?" Will was seething, his frustration and worry not even marginally quelled by his frantic pacing. His little brother was in there, suffering, because of his boss. Again.

"No, he didn't. Jay was benched, Will. He took it badly and went off on a solo mission. Honestly, I'm just thanking God that he had the idea to wear a vest. Otherwise, he'd be-."

"Don't. Don't finish that." Will cut him off harshly, not wanting to hear that particular word. It was just too early. He couldn't afford to lose Jay as well, not now.

"He'll be fine, Will. It's just a through and through and some bruising." Antonio's hand came to rest on his shoulder but Will shook it off, anger once again rearing its malicious head.

"He's psychologically tormented, Antonio. You know how Jay works through that? By burning away his energy in the gym until he nearly collapses from sheer exhaustion! Now that he can't do that God knows how much sleep he'll get, especially considering that he won't be tired enough to sleep through the nightmares and he needs to rest in order to get better." It was the truth. An ugly truth, but the truth all the same.

"How about we cross that bridge when we come to it? Let's make sure that his wound won't give him trouble, then we'll see how we can help him actually rest." Antonio tried to pacify the air, stepping back from the agitated doctor.

"Not needing surgery is already good. According to Brett, she didn't feel anything broken and I doubt that he has internal bleeding." Will seemed to be talking to himself rather than Antonio, but he still tried to ground him.

"So he'll probably be discharged soon, right?" Antonio questioned, knowing that Jay couldn't stand staying at hospitals.

"As early as tomorrow morning, barring any complications." Will shrugged, seeming to calm with his own reasoning.

"So far there ain't any, and your estimation is correct," Connor said as he approached the duo, a brief smile half hidden by his beard.

"How's he holding up?" Will stepped forward, nearly hitting his face with Conrad's with their proximity.

"He's sleeping; woke up slightly to ask about a 'Daniel', but he went under before long. He's in room 324. We put him on antibiotics just in case, but he's all right." Connor stepped back, putting a bit of distance between himself and the relieved Will.

"Good, that's good." Will crouched, seemingly losing all his energy in a moment as he simply breathed. He wouldn't lose his brother as well. Supposedly.

"Don't worry, Will. Goodwin already made sure to clear your schedule for the rest of this week, so go be with him." Connor squeezed Will's shoulder before heading away, probably to continue his rounds.

* * *

There was a nasal cannula snaking its way from behind Jay's ears, the plastic highlighted against Jay's cheeks. He didn't seem too pale, something which Will was glad for. He didn't think he'd handle seeing Jay paler than the sheets beneath him.

The gown -a bit oversized, as usual-, seemed to emphasise that this was his little brother lying in a hospital bed simply because he couldn't deal with his grief without doing something physical about it. Without taking revenge.

As if that had done anything.

There was an IV in the back of his left hand and Will gravitated towards the right side, softly pushing back Jay's hair as he gazed at the monitors; he was stable, just like Connor had said. However, he couldn't resist pulling the gown down to see the bandage. The deep bruising directly above Jay's heart stopped him short and he heard Antonio inhale sharply behind him, both of them realising once again just how close they had come to losing him.

Antonio laid a hand on Jay's wrist, subtly relishing the steady beat he could feel beneath his fingers.

He could see that Will was seeking the same reassurance as he laid an open palm on Jay's chest.

Jay remained motionless, peacefully asleep.

Antonio's phone buzzed, horribly loud in the deafening silence. Will and Antonio both startled, their trance completely broken as Antonio fished it out of his pocket and answered it.

"Diego! Yeah, I'll be right there. I just got stuck at the hospital. No, don't worry, I'm fine. Jay was hit, he'll be fine too. I'm going to leave right now, have Eva call the takeout place." Antonio hung up, an embarrassed look twisting his features as he turned to face Will again. "Look, I got to go, but promise to leave me updated, okay?"

"Yeah man, of course." Will nodded briefly but his attention was soon stolen away by Jay again, even if the younger brother did nothing but inhale and exhale.

Antonio knew that that was more than enough for Will at the moment.

* * *

There was barely a beat beneath his fingers.

He had aimed for Daniel's shoulder, but his shot had gone askew after he felt the bullet rip through his side, the shock enough to take his legs out from underneath him.

He had never aimed for Daniel's chest.  
He didn't want him to die; Jay wanted him to rot in prison, to see what life was without a father to protect you from the cruelty of life.  
The bullet just went askew.  
Jay wanted him to feel pain; wanted to see him down in a hole for causing so much grief to the city.

He wanted to get revenge.  
But not like this.  
He never wanted blood on his hands.  
Even if it wasn't innocent.

He could feel his own heart thundering in his chest. He could barely breathe; couldn't keep up with the beating of his own heart. The bullet wound seemed to simultaneously burn and cool, painful but not, bleeding without oozing blood.

Jay choked on his next gasp as he attempted to ground himself; the world around him was dissolving into swirls of blacks and browns and bright red.

Much too bright.

White, not red.

Blinding white light.

"JAY!" Blue eyes bore into his, framed by worry lines and exhaustion and whiting hair. Severide. "Wake up!" The order hit him like a bucket of freezing water, pushing away all traces of sleep and pain. He raised his hand in an attempt to wipe away the fog, but he couldn't raise it more than a few inches from the bed. Something was holding it down.

He tried to raise his other hand.  
It was free.  
He managed to raise it, but something pushed it down again.

Gently, but still pinned it down. The force was too much for him and Jay cursed his body's current weakness when a ripple of pain almost paralysed him with its intensity.

Severide's face blended and changed, morphing into Daniel's.  
Into the ten-year-old that he had murdered back in Afghanistan.  
The girl he had nearly killed back in Chicago.  
Daniel again.

Countless faces flickered all over his vision; all faces that had taken fragments of Jay's heart with them before sticking a picture of themselves in his mind. They haunted him; the first of the demons that came out to play in the dead of the night.

It was dizzying and Jay closed his eyes, trying to force the images away from his mind's eye. The image of a dead Daniel burned against the back of his eyelids and he wrenched an arm free, rubbing harshly in an attempt to wipe it away.

His vision was momentarily covered with stars, but the image remained, and his arm was pinned to the bed once again.

"Jay! Listen to me!" Kelly was shaking him, the jarring motion raising the pain to a nauseating level. "Just breathe, man." The hand was gone from his wrist and Jay could feel it rest lightly on his chest, a barely there pressure that helped ground him more than the restraining grip had.

He inhaled, forcing himself to hold his breath for as long as he could before exhaling shakily.  
Again.  
And again.  
It was easier the fourth time; the pain was dimming and slowly growing more tolerable.

Kelly was above him, worry evident in his wide eyes and his reluctance at letting Jay's shoulder go. Jay tried to talk, to assure the fire-fighter that there was nothing to worry about, but his throat immediately protested and sent him into a harsh coughing fit that stole all his breath away. He was still trying to stop bringing up his lungs when someone hauled him up into a sitting position, making it easier for Jay to stop coughing.

An ice chip was against his lips before he could even regain his breath. Its coldness served to push away the last vestige of sleep and Jay noticed that Connor was there, his eyes fixed on the screens behind Jay's head.

He didn't seem to like what he saw.

"Try to avoid talking, you kind of screamed your throat raw," Connor ordered as he moved the stethoscope across his chest. Jay hated how he was shaking, but he couldn't make his body still no matter how hard he tried.

Connor didn't seem to mind. He simply pushed Jay down again so that he could have access to the wound in his stomach. The pokes and prods were mostly unwelcomed, but Severide was there to subtly keep him from getting lost in his own thoughts. Jay appreciated the light tap to his cheeks; it had been a friendly touch since his childhood, and it helped to centre him in moments like these.

Ground him enough to notice that Will wasn't there.

"Where's Will?" His voice was scratchy and hoarse and Jay coughed, trying to clear it to the best of his ability without igniting any unnecessary pains.

"Coughing won't help; your throat is damaged. Will's sleeping in the break room - Nathalie dragged him there so that he could rest. He might have been given a light sedative as well." Connor said.

"He okay?" He blatantly ignored the jibe for him to shut up. He'd remain quiet when he had nothing to say or ask. Right now, he just wanted answers. He inwardly thanked God for making Natalie take care of his brother in such a time; he knew Will could be a handful when he was worried, and as long as he was getting some rest, Jay didn't much care for the sedative. They were in a hospital, nothing would happen to him.

"He's worried about you. Doesn't want to lose another family member so soon." Connor pointedly stuck another bandage on his torso before turning Jay on his side and conducting the same examination on the exit wound in his back.

Jay's chest ached as the memory of watching his father pass away flared; bright and painful and so raw that it caused an actual ache in his chest. Right where he had shot Daniel. The knowledge momentarily stole his breath away and he forced himself to inhale.

"How's Daniel?" He frowned as Connor's fingers danced across his back. He hated not seeing what was happening to him. He tried to twist his head enough to see but Severide was there again, gently keeping him looking at him and forcing him to focus on practically anything but what Connor was doing.

"Daniel?" Connor was evidently confused.

"The guy I shot." Jay clarified, even if he didn't think it would do much good. How were they to know who he had shot? "In the chest." That might help narrow it down. The fingers on his back froze before carefully taping the bandage in its place.

"I'm sorry Jay, we couldn't do anything." Connor carefully turned him on his back again but Jay didn't pay attention to that.

It was not a nightmare.  
It had been another haunting memory.  
Another demon to add to the collection.  
Daniel was dead, and Jay had been the one to kill him.

"Jay?" There was a finger against his throat and Jay pushed it away as his stomach twisted, threatening to upend all its contents. There was a basin under his chin and suddenly he was throwing up, stomach cramping painfully due to its emptiness.

He hadn't eaten much while watching his dad ebb away.

"You done?" The basin was taken away without giving him time to answer and there was a hand on his back, rubbing gently between his shoulders.

Daniel was dead.

"Jay, you...ed..breathe!" There was a mask being pushed on his face and Jay groaned at its claustrophobic nature. He couldn't find it in himself to reach up and pull it away.

He had murdered Daniel.

His hand was grasped, the same hand he had used to fire his gun. His finger curled automatically against an imaginary trigger, a phantom gun.

"Jay, remember." The voice was soft but there was no mistaking his order.

But... Remember what? That he was essentially a cold-blooded killer? That he had taken revenge, uncaring of the consequent havoc unleashed on a family?

"Remember; squeeze, inhale."

Severide. Only Kelly knew that mantra. His hand was squeezed tightly, and Jay forced himself to inhale. Severide's grip started to ease and Jay exhaled slowly until the hand around his was completely loose. Then the grip tightened again, and Jay forced himself to inhale again. This time, Kelly took a bit longer to start releasing his grip.

Jay didn't have any idea how long that particular ritual went on before he was mentally back in the hospital room, gazing warily at the ceiling above him.

Oh. He was lying down.

Connor was on the other side of his bed, a syringe in his hands. It was still full, but Connor put it down, something akin to marvel on his face. He didn't bother injecting anything else, but Jay could feel him re-inserting the IV in his arm. Huh, when did he manage to dislodge it?

"That's it, Jay. Just breathe." Kelly's voice commanded his attention again and Jay squeezed the hand holding his. He detested his weakness, but Severide's reassuring squeeze immediately diminished his thoughts. This man knew where he stood, kind of. He could understand having a death on your hands. He could understand the guilt and terror and misery.

"Rest, Jay." A hand pushed down his eyelids and Jay couldn't find the energy to reopen them. Maybe later, but not now. Maybe...

He was asleep before he could finish his thought.

* * *

When he woke up again, the ache in his chest was pulsing rhythmically. The beating of his own heart was painful and Jay inhaled sharply as his awareness returned with vigour. The mask was thankfully gone and so was the I.V., but he could still feel a clip on his finger.

"Jay?" Will was there, fingers curling around Jay's own even before he opened his eyes.

"Here," Jay mumbled, cracking an eye open and squinting at the light.

"Good, you think you can open your eyes?" Will sounded frustrated and it was easy for Jay to notice that his brother was pissed off. He sounded as if he was going to rant Jay's ears off or else blame him for everything like Dad did right before...

"Are you gonna yell at me?" The question was out before Jay even thought about it and he cursed himself for his meek voice.

Jay sounded so vulnerable that Will felt whatever anger had started to build ooze away, but he still needed to talk to his brother.

"No, but that doesn't stop me from calling you a stupid asshole." Will brushed back Jay's hair, softly pulling the brown locks.

"I'll accept that." Jay subtly pulled away, uncomfortable with the tender ministrations given the obvious tension that was rolling off Will in waves.

"Don't do that again, Jay, please. I can't afford a heart attack at the moment." Will pulled his hand away, resting it wearily on Jay's arm instead.

"Not get shot at? I can't promise that, Will." Jay huffed, turning his head to the other side. It was a petulant and childish reaction, but he didn't want to apologise for it.

"No, I know that comes with the job. But going off without a partner or even without proper gear was stupid. That vest barely managed to hold off the bullet that would have killed you right there, and you weren't even supposed to be there in the first place." Will managed to keep himself from snapping but the bite in his words was still strong enough to pierce Jay's precarious thread of self-restraint.

"He murdered dad-"

"And he was about to murder you too," Will cut him off, "so don't give me crap about having no other choice. You had a choice; you could have chosen to put yourself in my shoes for once and know that hearing the call that a Detective Halstead was being brought in was a shock that I did not need."

Jay just lowered his head, a muscle in his jaw jumping erratically as he mulled over Will's words. He didn't offer excuses or reasons or anything else; he just lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. To Will's trained eye, remorse was evident behind the protective wall in his eyes.

Will sighed and pulled down Jay's gown, surveying the bruising before running his stethoscope across his brother's chest. The breaths were too controlled; too even. Jay was in pain, and he wasn't about to ask for pain meds.

"I'm sorry."

It was nothing but a mutter, but it was more than audible in the silent room.

"I shouldn't have made it all about me either, we're even. You're supposedly getting discharged today, Connor just needs to check you out before you leave."

"Didn't you just check me out? Can't I just sign the papers and go?" Jay almost begged, more than ready to get out of the hospital room. It was small, there was no privacy, and he just wanted to sleep in his own bed; cuddle in his own sheets and relish the warmth of the well-used blankets.

"You still need to wait for Antonio to get you a change of clothes. Just try to sleep a bit more, he'll be here soon." Will said softly yet sternly, keeping a hand on Jay's chest when the latter tried to rise. (He made sure to avoid the ugly bruise that he knew marred the skin beneath the gown).

"I don't want to sleep," Jay stated, pushing Will's hand aside.

"I got word that you didn't sleep much last night," Will said offhandedly before dropping in a chair.

"It was just a nightmare, I'm fine." Jay huffed, a glare warping his features.

"Waking up in panic attacks hardly warrants as fine, Jay."

"I just got shot, is a panic attack really that bad?" Jay didn't care that he was being defensive; Rhodes had no right to go tell his brother what had happened. None at all.

"You know it's not just the bullet."

"I'm fine, Will. Let me be." Jay didn't want Will to press on, he had already said things he regretted before their dad died, he didn't want to add to the list.

"Fine, I'll come to get you when Antonio arrives." The door sliding shut sounded infinitely loud and Jay didn't know whether the solace he found himself in was welcomed or not.

* * *

Dr. Charles dropped in before Antonio arrived, a subtle and quiet support that Jay didn't have the heart to kick out. Especially considering that he had brought him a chocolate bar.

Antonio arrived an hour later, right after dropping his kids to school. Connor had already checked Jay out and deemed him healthy enough to leave, as long as he filled his prescription and took his pain meds before sleeping.

Antonio didn't hover or talk needlessly or do anything out of the ordinary; He just dropped Jay's clothes on the bed and left, letting him dress himself. His care lay in the clothes that he had chosen - soft sweatpants, a large hoodie that the bandage would not brush against, and slip-on shoes that did not require him bending down (doubling over his injury) in order to tie the shoelaces.

Jay smiled quietly to himself as he got ready, doing his best to push down the pain as his body slowly got used to moving again. He had grown stiff in the hospital bed despite being in it for less than 24 hours.

"You done in there?" Will's voice carried through the door before he came in, running an inquisitive eye over him. Jay did his best to keep himself from squirming as Will slipped the stethoscope down his chest again, as if making sure that he was still there.

"I'm fine, Will. Let's go." Jay pushed himself to his feet, grimacing as his stitches pulled. He carefully covered the injured area with his hand (as if the gesture would actually do anything) and soldiered through it. He'd be fine. It was to be expected.

"You're coming to my apartment. I have the next few days off." Will stated, subtly steadying Jay with a hand against the small of his back.

"Are you kid-"

"Unless you prefer to stay here."

"Fine." Jay shied away from his brother's touch after that, resolutely acting as if he didn't have a hole in his body and enough bruises to last months. Will had to give it to him; he walked straight-backed up until they got to Antonio's car, where he all but melted into the seat.

"I'll bring over a bag of your clothes later today, Jay," Antonio said, attempting to deice the situation.

"Thanks, Tony." Jay murmured as he slumped further in the seat, finally settling with his head against the window.

Will couldn't help noticing the pallor that was further accentuated by the bright sun.

Neither of them said anything when Jay let loose a guttural groan after Antonio drove over a pothole. Will just grabbed Jay's hand, giving him (the unasked for) support in order to ride out the sudden onslaught of pain. Antonio apologised, but didn't dare ask how Jay was.

When they got to the apartment, Antonio shepherded Jay to the couch while Will grabbed a couple of beers and a plate of sandwiches, knowing that Jay still needed to eat something.

Unpredictably, Jay immediately grabbed a couple of sandwiches and stuffed them in his mouth.

"You guys need anything before I head to work?" Antonio asked, knowing that his presence would only impinge on the two brothers.

"No, thanks, Tony. Say hi to the guys for me." Jay piped up before rising to hug the older detective.

"And leave the girls with no message?" Antonio said playfully as he gently pushed Jay to sit on the couch again.

"You're an idiot." Jay rolled his eyes fondly.

"Says the one who got shot because he was too busy breaking protocol."

"You're one to speak; need I remind you who got three rounds to the chest in less than three months?" Jay raised an eyebrow and Antonio raised his arms in the universal sign of surrender.

"Touche. Have a good day, and rest, Jay." With that, the door closed behind him.

"There aren't any games on. Film?" Will said.

"Happy Feet?" Jay shrugged in response to Will's incredulous eyebrow raise, "It's a guilty pleasure."

"You're such a softie." Will rolled his eyes as he all but collapsed onto the couch, pulling Jay towards him in a brotherly move that Jay accepted, shifting to find a comfortable position that didn't irritate any of his wounds.

In no time at all, Jay was using Will's thighs as a pillow as the adorable penguins danced on the screen. Will was somewhat surprised; Jay didn't usually allow himself to seek this level of comfort, especially when dealing with any type of emotional trauma. For Jay to so openly, probably subtly in his opinion, seek Will's touch was astounding to say the least.

"Stop thinking, Will. Your leg is just the perfect height for my wound to not hurt. Not that it's hurting much." Jay said, his tone daring Will to defy him.

Will wisely didn't say anything, just dropped his hand in Jay's hair and pulled at the tufts, working out what remained of the gel. The ministration seemed to relax Jay; his blinks were getting longer and more frequent, evidently fighting his exhaustion as well as the effect of the painkillers. Jay lost the battle with sleep, one hand resting underneath Will's thigh and the other dangling to the floor.

Will didn't have it in himself to wake him up, even as his ass slowly grew sore due to his stationary position.

"We'll go to dad's tomorrow, just sleep for now."

Jay didn't respond verbally, but some tension seemed to ease from his shoulders at the prospect of having a night for themselves, without any harsh reminders that their dad was no longer among them.

That they were now technically orphans.  
They could fool themselves for one more day before the wave dragged them under.  
Will just hoped that his brother would allow Will to help him find the surface again.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own CPD and am not making any profit from this.

Wow, this has been sitting in my file for about 2 weeks and has been in the works since that damned crossover aired! My creative juices are running a bit low because uni is barely leaving me with any time to write and edit, so I excuse myself for any delays as well as for any mistakes I didn't see; feel free to point them out in the comments below! (or, you know, leave what you think on the story? O:))

Overall, I hope you enjoyed this and that it was a good filler for what that episode left out - I couldn't believe he went from half passed out to sitting up on the ambo by himself in mere minutes, like, c'mon writers, give us some whump!

That's all from me mates, keep an eye up for some of my next works (One piece and The Resident in the works!) and hope to see ya around!

Kudos,  
Chrisii.


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